Carol Ann Davidson | Tribune News Service (TNS)

Noise is my nemesis, quiet being one of my cherished but most elusive of holy grails.

So when deciding where to go for a much-needed vacation at the beginning of March, I decided to spend it at a luxury resort, The Somerset on Grace Bay in Providenciales, Turks and Caicos. Fingers crossed that I would find a modicum of peace and serenity.

I had viewed online photos and videos of the property. It certainly looked beautiful, but would it achieve my high standards for low decibels?

This was my third trip to T&C, my first to The Somerset.

It’s not the newest “kid on the block” (it was built in 2006). Shinier “kids” have arrived on the scene — a few of which I have visited — but there is something more genteel, relaxed and intimate about this property. It immediately felt like home. The Somerset oozed charm, without the noisy bells and whistles that many resorts display, mistaking intense activity and helicoptering attention for thoughtful but unobtrusive service.

Part of the charm resided in the configuration of the Spanish Mediterranean style of architecture of yellow stucco capped by the red clay roof. The four-story residences, housing one- to five-bedroom suites, formed a horseshoe shape allowing each unit to have an unobstructed view of Grace Bay Beach. With its miles-long shoreline of silky white sand, Grace Bay is listed among Tripadvisor’s “Best of the Best” beaches for 2024.

I arrived at night after a 90-minute flight from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, so I didn’t see the crowning centerpiece of the property until early the next morning. I opened the floor-to-ceiling drapes in my one-bedroom suite, stood out on the terrace and gaped in amazement at the stunning lap and infinity pools that seemed to flow straight into the ocean. An employee was carefully cleaning the pools while another was setting up the chaise lounges with pristine white covers and rolled towels.

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So, what can a gal do but don her swimsuit and jump right in? I had the pools all to myself, and after an hour swim in the 104-foot-long lap pool, I headed for breakfast. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served at the Barbetta, an independently owned restaurant on The Somerset’s property. The open-air breakfast room overlooked the landscaped park area bordered by smaller Somerset accommodations. I must admit that breakfast choices were plentiful, but the quality of the food could be improved. However, Ingrid, the delightful server, was a pleasure.

Key to a great resort vacation is the staff. It turns out that many of the employees have been there since The Somerset opened — a good sign. They understand understated hospitality but deliver it with ease and a kind of natural friendliness, as if you’ve known them all your life.

There’s a gym onsite, which I didn’t use because I wanted as much sun and sand and water as I could possibly squeeze into my short stay. But I did avail myself of a sublime massage on my suite terrace. Yuli, a therapist all the way from Bali, knew exactly how to knead those stressed muscles into submission. While working her wonders, the sound of birds and the ever-present warm island breeze kept us company.

Each of the 53 accommodations is uniquely decorated. My 1,500-square-foot suite was airy, modern and immaculate. The kitchen offered every imaginable culinary gadget, Viking and Bosch appliances, and a separate glass wine refrigerator. The king-size bed was mercifully comfy in a massive bedroom bracketed on one side by a Juliet balcony and on the other by the ensuite bathroom and separate closet room.

I may have been the solo traveler there, but had the pleasure of meeting a host of couples young and senior, many with their children or grandchildren. The resort is known for its Caicos Kids Club designed for children ages 3 to 12. While parents grab a bit of free time, an array of supervised activities such as arts and crafts, treasure hunts and beach games occupy the little ones.

For bigger kids like myself, the sea offers endless adventures. Although I was almost enticed into parasailing, I opted for less height and more splash on one of the Hobie Cats that the resort provides. I even let out a few hoots when I first straddled what felt like a trampoline on wings with a sail attached. It was a particularly windy day, and the youthful Navigator steered the craft out into the wild blue yonder. It was thrilling, and a bit scary, when a huge wave danced all over me. But I survived to tell the tale.

Then as my reward for being so brave, I plunked myself down on a beach chaise lounge strategically placed near the water’s edge and munched on a grilled shrimp salad washed down by an intoxicating coconut rum punch served by a waiter from The Somerset’s poolside restaurant. Watching the swimmers, kayakers, parasailers, sailboats and sunbathers was entertainment enough.

Once the headiness of the drink wore off, the sunny beach beckoned me for a long, leisurely stroll.

Grace Bay itself stretches about three miles, but it connects seamlessly with two other beaches so one could conceivably walk for about 12 miles. I didn’t count my steps, but I viewed various properties along the way — some very modern, others a bit worse for the wear — and I liked that the area was not overcrowded and the resorts were spread out so a sense of privacy prevailed. But for me, my Somerset “home” was where I wanted to cocoon. So back I went for my last evening meal at Barbetta. Grilled mahi mahi with asparagus, saffron infused potatoes followed by crackling creme brûlée.

While checking out the last morning of my stay, a couple was just arriving. The woman asked me, “Is it quiet here?”

“Yes,” I said truthfully, “and peaceful.” She turned to her husband with a big smile and said, “That’s exactly what we need.”

A fitting end to my holy grail pursuit and a positive introduction to theirs. Maybe on my next trip I’ll try the parasailing. Fingers crossed.

(For more information, visit thesomerset.com.)

©2024 Tribune Content Agency, LLC.

Ebony Williams | (TNS) The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

A trip across the pond has many amazing things to offer, like landmarks, history, food, art and museums — the experience alone can benefit the entire family. However, the No. 1 reason people don’t go on vacation is the cost.

Being strapped for cash shouldn’t deny you the luxuries of experiencing European culture. Whether you need a passport or have to update one, can’t find the time to take off more than a week from work, or the cost isn’t appealing, you can still visit European-inspired sights right here in the United States.

Here are five cities that have a European feel without the long flight.

New Orleans

Highly influenced by French and Spanish ways of life, New Orleans is a melting pot of cultures with a rich history. It was settled by the French and turned over to the Spaniards to settle a war debt. Spain ruled from 1763 to 1803. The city has boisterous music, authentic cuisine, art and museums to explore.

Tarpon Springs, Florida

Tarpon Springs has the look and feel of Greece; according to Tarpon Arts, it has the highest concentration of Greek Americans in the country. These residents contribute their culture, food, clothing, experiences and more to the city.

Montpelier, Vermont

Montpelier is the smallest state capital in the U.S., with a population of just more than 7,000 people. The connection between America and France is on display, giving the quaint town the feel of a French countryside village with shops, green hills, farmers markets, European architecture and more.

Holland, Michigan

When given a name like Holland, you have to live up to your namesake. That is exactly what this little city in Michigan does. It’s dressed with cobblestone streets much like the ones in Europe and nostalgic countryside architecture. The city has authentic Dutch windmills, beaches, food and art — giving the perfect balance of a European, beach and small-town feel.

Solvang, California

After being settled by the Spanish, a small population of Danish people came to Solvang for new beginnings. The city which is not far from Santa Barbra, has transformed into a Danish haven. Nestled in the Santa Ynez Valley, Solvang is happily cultured in its European roots and proudly brings its residents and visitors authentic bakeries, eateries, museums, art and more.

Experiencing European culture doesn’t have to break the bank. Until you can accumulate the necessary funds to afford a trip overseas, taking a small vacation in the U.S. is the perfect substitute.

_________

By NICOLE WINFIELD, ANDREW MEDICHINI and ARITZ PARRA (Associated Press)

ROME (AP) — Pope Francis skipped the traditional Good Friday procession at Rome’s Colosseum to protect his health, the Vatican said, adding to concerns about his frail condition during a particularly busy liturgical period.

Francis had been expected to preside over the Way of the Cross procession, which re-enacts Christ’s Passion and crucifixion, and composed the meditations that are read aloud at each station. But just as the event was about to begin, the Vatican announced that Francis was following the event from his home at the Vatican.

“To conserve his health in view of the vigil tomorrow and Mass on Easter Sunday, Pope Francis will follow the Via Crucis at the Colosseum this evening from the Casa Santa Marta,” a statement from the Vatican press office said.

It was the first time he had skipped the traditional, evocative event in his 11-year papacy, and recalled the Good Friday that St. John Paul II famously watched from the Apostolic Palace just before he died in 2005.

The 87-year-old Francis, who had part of one lung removed as a young man, has been battling what he and the Vatican have described as a case of the flu, bronchitis or a cold all winter long. For the last several weeks he has occasionally asked an aide to read aloud his speeches and skipped his Palm Sunday homily altogether.

The decision to not attend the Good Friday procession appeared to be very last-minute: Francis’ chair was in place on the platform where he was to preside over the rite. His closest aide, Monsignor Leonardo Sapienza, was on hand and moved the television screen around on the platform so Francis would have a better view of what was going on inside the Colosseum itself.

But at 9:10 p.m., five minutes before the official start of the procession, the Vatican press office announced on Telegram that he wouldn’t show up. The chair was quickly taken away.

The hasty announcement recalled Francis’ last-minute decision on Palm Sunday, when the Vatican issued the pope’s homily in advance to journalists, and his aide got up to give him his glasses to read it, when Francis made clear he was skipping it.

Guy behind the concession counter the other night asks me which movie I’m seeing. “Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire,” I tell him. He puts down the popcorn and heaves a nearly convulsive sigh of relief. Gratitude? Hope? All of it. A mashup of emotions, to go with the movie’s mashup of species.

“Oh, man,” the concession worker says. “We really need that one.”

“Dune II” notwithstanding, it has been a difficult year at the average movie theater. Now comes the new Godzilla/Kong smackdown — the marketing materials, for the record, tell us that the “X” in “Godzilla X Kong” is silent, which is a confusing waste of a perfectly good letter. But I’m happy to report that the follow-up to the 2021 “Godzilla vs. Kong” does the job — unevenly, yes, but with a pleasantly reckless spirit of engagement.

It’s directed, as was the 2021 movie, by Adam Wingard and features the return of Rebecca Hall, Brian Tyree Henry, Kaylee Hottle and assorted digital MonsterVerse golden oldies, from ‘Zilla to Kong to Mothra and more, shined up and fulla’ beans.

Maybe the preview crowd on Tuesday was an outlier, but I doubt it. The bursts of applause, particularly in the blithely destructive Rio de Janeiro climax — a team-building exercise for the headliners — had the ring of genuine approval, not just something you do because the movie’s begging for it. At one point Godzilla and Kong sprint toward their enemy, Scar King, the orange authoritarian nightmare whose territorial ambitions as a Kong-scaled antagonist know no bounds. You know the shot: the action-movie slow-mo dash toward the camera, executed here in such a way as to suggest Godzilla and Kong have spent many hours rewatching “Bad Boys.”

Dumb, right? Well, sure. Also amusing, and exciting and sincere. For the audience, it’s a shameless bid for applause that satisfies our deepest urges to see two endlessly competitive beings find the joy in starring, however briefly, in a Michael Bay action movie.

At the end of “Godzilla vs. Kong,” the atomically charged sea lizard and the woolly plus-sized simian reconciled, uneasily (without lawyers), after vanquishing the human-made Mechagodzilla. Despite widespread human fear and skepticism, Godzilla agreed (again, without lawyers) to keep a beady eye in his touchingly too-small head on monstrous threats to humankind on Earth’s surface. Kong returned to Hollow Earth, the gravity-scrambled inner wonderland of verdant beauty and violent predators. The film worked like a remake of “The Odd Couple,” proving that two lonely Titans can share a planet without driving each other crazy.

The threats double, triple and quadruple in the new movie. Scar King, whose miserably enslaved followers include a Titan “ancient” in the Godzilla vein, ranks as Headache No. 1.  But there are others, and Godzilla gives up his post to chase down an unexplained distress signal emitting from Hollow Earth. The signal perplexes the humans in “Godzilla X Kong,” nervous about what might happen if Godzilla and Kong mix it up again.

Rebecca Hall, left, and Brian Tyree Henry in a scene from “Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire.” (Warner Bros. Pictures via AP)

These humans of whom we speak include the brilliant, eternally preoccupied scientist Dr. Andrews (the Hall character). Her adopted daughter Jia (Hottle), the sole surviving member of the Iwi tribe of Skull Island, has been plagued by visions of Hollow Earth and imminent catastrophe, and with her telepathic communication with her pal Kong heightened, something’s definitely up. Reunited with the Titan-obsessed podcaster Bernie (Henry) and Andrews’ one-time squeeze Trapper (Dan Stevens), the humans zwoop to Hollow Earth to make their own set of astonished green-screen discoveries on cue.

Whole sections of “Godzilla X Kong” shove the humans off-screen for many minutes at a time. Few will complain. I love Hall in just about everything and she and Hottle capture enough authentic feeling in their mother/daughter relationship to earn a tear or two themselves. To be fair, some of that comes from the screenplay by writers Terry Rossio, Simon Barrett and Jeremy Slater, though the laziest exposition and boilerplate dialogue puts the “bored” in “cardboard.” (I stopped counting how often Hall’s character says “Oh, my god!” in response to whatever she’s oh-my-godding about.)

Whatever; nobody’s paying for the words here. “Godzilla X Kong” makes up for its own deficiencies with oddball flourishes. Wingard and the writers work like rogue chefs at an Olive Garden, tossing everything they can at any number of walls to see what sticks. The sight of Godzilla curling up like a kitten, napping inside the Colosseum in Rome after he’s half-trashed it in order to save it from an attacker: very nice. Later on, chowing down on a lifetime’s worth of free food (atomic energy stored under the Arctic ice), Godzilla’s bad breath and body odor color changes from blue to bright pink, as if he’s getting dolled up for a Summer of ’23 weekend with Barbenheimer.

Godzilla, thinking pink and apparently just coming out of a Hollow Earth screening of “Barbie,” in the new “Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire.” (Warner Bros. Pictures via AP)

The movie proceeds with brutal bouts of MMA combat with 300-foot combatants. The comparatively measured and selective action storytelling of the 2014 Gareth Edwards “Godzilla,” like last year’s terrific Japanese revitalizer “Godzilla Minus One,” feels a long way from Wingard’s janky funhouse movies. But they have their own relentless, overstuffed appeal; I wouldn’t recommend them if they didn’t.

If I focus more on Godzilla in this new picture than Kong (the movie’s slightly more Kong-centric), maybe it’s because the best dog I ever had also had a too-small head. Not sure that’s enough to build an entire Godzilla ethos around, but I’ll take it up with my therapist.

And I’ll take these Godzilla/Kong MonsterVerse movies over most other corporate studio franchises these days, especially the recent “Jurassic Park” outings, which were, what’s the word … lousy. Yes, Godzilla and Kong cause untold and blithely unexamined human and property damage in Wingard’s latest, enough so that I wouldn’t mind seeing an entire movie at some point in this franchise’s lifespan devoted to lawsuits and legal battles, if only to see how Godzilla and Kong behave in a courtroom. The Rio carnage is quite extensive; earlier, there’s a dash of sweet pathos in the sight of Godzilla klutzing around Rome, damaging priceless landmarks because he can’t help it. Typical foreign tourist.

But let’s be realistic: What good is realism to “Godzilla X Kong”? Final question: Which low-level employee took the time to add the extra exclamation point to the dire control panel warning “GODZILLA VITALS SURGING!!”? There are only four possible words for whoever it was: employee of the month.

“Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire” — 3 stars (out of 4)

MPA rating: PG-13 (for creature violence and action)

Running time: 2:02

How to watch: Premieres in theaters March 28

Michael Phillips is a Tribune critic.

mjphillips@chicagotribune.com